


riddle's plotting (something nefarious)

by Parfaiti



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Also I wrote like half of this on a plane, Also first time writing and posting a kiss? wow, And kind of something more ;), And my friend looked over and she was like wHAT aRE yOu dOiNG iS tHAT fAnFicTiON, Because Tom isn't a dark lord in this one, But revived to bring you this, Fluff, Harry Potter Being an Idiot, Harry in Denial, Harry is wrong, He decided to focus on Harry instead lmao, I died slightly, I swear this is not noncon, LMAO jk the rating is T hehe, M/M, Oblivious Harry, because Harry has a big-ass crush on Tom, even if it seems so in the fic, he just tries not to mention it, this is a oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parfaiti/pseuds/Parfaiti
Summary: Harry just knows that he's right to be suspicious of Tom Riddle, Slytherin prefect and crush of nearly all of Hogwarts's population.Harry is not one of them. Absolutely not.And what is Riddle up to now? He just called Harry's name.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 31
Kudos: 330





	riddle's plotting (something nefarious)

**Author's Note:**

> A slight warning: I had to facepalm so many times while writing this.
> 
> Also, who knew that flights could be so productive? I wrote half of this on a freaking plane while deprived of sleep. Wait, that's yet another warning.

“Harry?” 

Harry Potter stopped in his tracks, originally intent on returning to his dorm to study more, as it wasn’t too late. Well, it was almost midnight, well after curfew, (which limited places available for him to escape to) but he _really_ wasn’t tired, alright? Honestly, he just didn’t want to deal with the menace that was Tom Riddle. 

Maybe being in conversation with whoever was calling him could get him out of Riddle’s unnerving scrutiny. Wait, no-

The prefect sat in a lounging position on The Chair (specially reserved for Tom Riddle due to being the best chair in the entire Slytherin common room), his carefully brushed hair and angelic face glowing ethereally in the dim lighting of the gloomy space. Harry raised his eyebrows, observing Riddle holding his precious yew wand loosely in his hand. 

Good. He probably learnt a lesson from that time Harry had tackled him after a particularly painful slur in class directed towards Hermione. 

Come to think of it, Riddle had seemed to be pretty scared when Harry got off him. His breathing was erratic, his pupils had dilated, and his hands were even trembling slightly. A few weeks after that, Riddle had avoided him, and in the rare event of making eye contact, (no, Harry didn’t not seek him out on purpose at all) flushed a very… _interesting_ shade of pink; probably from being embarrassed in front of nearly all Slytherin students.

Harry smirked slightly and mentally patted his own back on a job well done. 

But- no. He needed to focus on the present. Riddle called him? What now? Riddle was dangerous and needed extreme concentration to be dealt with properly. Nobody believed him, but Riddle was _definitely_ a budding dark lord.

Making a show of rolling his eyes, Harry stomped over to the brunette most likely in the middle of plotting something nefarious. He could see it in those dark, pitless, soulless, intense, complex eyes. He’d spent an entire afternoon one day to dissect Riddle’s thought process through the movements of his eyes and facial features; Harry was practically an expert. Riddle was scheming.

“Hello there,” Riddle nearly purred. “Why don't we move to somewhere more... private?”

Harry widened his eyes. That couldn't possibly mean- oh _Merlin_ , Harry was right. Riddle was finally planning on murdering him. Most likely after torturing him, but Harry _really_ preferred not to be cruio-ed for hours, thank you very much.

“It’s- after curfew-” Harry was cut off by Riddle sliding off his chair with practiced (it has to be practiced, because bloody hell, nobody could be that smooth without practice) grace and placing a finger in front of Harry’s lips, making a “shush” motion. Harry stiffened and stared, almost cross-eyed, through his glasses and at the finger. 

Normally people would assume that, from this proximity, Riddle’s nail had been through special treatment, but Harry knew that Riddle wouldn’t be caught dead applying nail polish or even fixing his fingernails the slightest bit. No, of course not, Riddle’s nails were just _that_ fucking perfect on its own.

“I’m a prefect,” the bastard breathed. His face was very close to Harry’s; it was quite an effective way to intimidate. “We can go anywhere we want.”

If Harry screamed right now for help… students would run down to see what was going on, and immediately back Riddle up. Damn him.

Flippity flappity _fuck_. There was no getting out of this, was there? 

-

Riddle held out the door of the Room of Requirement (Harry was an experienced spy, and had heard this room being referred to dozens of times in conversations, even though he’d never actually taken the time to try it out) for him, and Harry took a deep breath and slipped into the room. 

Were those top buttons of Riddle’s shirt undone?

Harry paused, not looking at Riddle. Suddenly trying to reanalyze Riddle’s clothing’s details in his head, Harry didn’t have enough time to examine the space he was now in.

He registered the click of a door closing, and Harry whipped around just to be pushed against a wall.

Making a startled noise, his heart actually stopped for what seemed an eternity. The realization of the soft pressure on his lips then set in. 

His eyes fluttered open, and he most definitely didn’t moan. That would be mortifying, to say the least.

After a few golden moments in heaven, Harry came to his senses and pushed Riddle off him. Both heaving for breath, Harry couldn’t help but note the way Riddle’s hair was almost as mussed as Harry’s.

He bit his lip, conflicted. However, the way Riddle’s eyes traced that motion helped Harry make his decision.

He pulled Riddle back onto him, ready for another mind-blowing snog and the many others to come.

**Author's Note:**

> If Harry had actually been less distracted, he would have seen that they were in a bedroom, hehe.
> 
> I was very tempted to just write a cliffhanger. I guess this kind of counts as one, b u t. Thank me.
> 
> Also: funny story, but I was actually going to write this other fic but then started on and spiralled off the idea of Harry being so oblivious and paranoid of Tom.  
> So, now you have this trash. 
> 
> Congratulations if you made it through all that without exiting due to the headache you had from Harry's thought process.
> 
> I reply to all comments and am looking for tomarry fwendos. :D


End file.
